


Tattooine Sucks

by BoStarsky



Series: Assorted Kylux [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: And rubbish at flirting, Hux is a delicate ginger, Kylo is awkward, M/M, Tattooine sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 09:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14017173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoStarsky/pseuds/BoStarsky
Summary: Damn whoever decided that Tatooine was a good place to meet, and fuck Ren in particular for deciding that Hux had to come along.





	Tattooine Sucks

Damn whoever decided that Tatooine was a good place to meet, and fuck Ren in particular for deciding that Hux had to come along. The temperature alone is enough to boil him, not to mention the twin suns frying his delicate skin. He’s roasting alive, face already sore, probably red enough to be used as a homing beacon for their spy. Couldn’t they have met in a building at least. Somewhere out of the glaring sun. At this point he’d rather brave the sweaty, disgusting atmosphere of a cantina than stand out here in the middle of nowhere for one more second. 

How Ren isn’t half dead at this point he can’t fathom, those heavy robes can’t possibly be comfortable when Hux feels like he’s dying dressed in as little as regulation will allow. He refuses to believe it’s not sweltering inside those robes and he very much doubts Ren is hiding an AC unit under there. 

Looking around he finds a certain beauty in Tatooine’s dessert. Thick, rolling dunes as far as the eye can see. A desolate emptiness he’s come to associate with himself. Never changing always the same. The only thing interrupting the serene landscape Ren’s towering figure undulating in the breeze, heavy fabric manipulated by the wind. As always Ren is an eyesore in whatever beauty Hux can find. 

Realising he’s been staring for a while he turns away, bowing his head to avoid the worst of the sun light. Their contact is late, if not dead. Sand shifts around his boots, they’ll need to be polished once they get of this god forsaken planet. Heavy boots come into view, Ren showing no respect for personal space, stopping nearly toe to toe with his own. He brings a pleasant shadow with him, Ren’s bulk coming in handy for once. 

He’s about to speak when heavy fabric is non too gently thread over his head and shoulders. Sputtering in indignation, threats at the tip of his tongue Ren cuts him off by yanking the hood up, shielding his aching face from the elements. Just as quickly as he appeared Ren retreats back to his spot on the dune, not a single word of explanation spoken.

Biting back the waiting insults Hux adjusts the cowl more to his liking, finding a slight fascination in the soft scent of flowers under the standard FO detergent. Face now burning for a different reason he stares stoically ahead. It feels like hours before their contact finally appears on the horizon, by then he’s become comfortable in Ren’s cowl, some latent part of his brain hoping he won’t have to return it. Damn him too.


End file.
